Retaking the World
by 58SilenceisGolden85
Summary: Russia has taken over the world, but some countries are still and are fighting back. With the help of my OC(s), will they be able to retake the world, or will they end up becoming one with Russia too? Pairings will be determined later.
1. Peashooters

Hi. This is my first story, and as such all criticism is appreciated. Be warned, some characters may be a bit OOC. I do not own Hetalia but I do own my OCs and the plot I came up with. Now on with the story!

Russia has finally taken over the world. Yes you heard me correctly. Now Russia rules the entire world, but there is still some hope. A few select nations, myself included, have survived the horrific bombings and the massacres of our soldiers and citizens. We have continued to exist in secret, always on the lookout for Russia's agents or even some of our former allies. Many former nations have been enslaved by him, and are now following his commands in exchange for their lives. And yes Russia has killed some nations…. but I cannot afford to think of them now. I am going about the business of ensuring that we are not defenseless and have food and water.

But right now you are probably asking something along the lines of, "Who is this chick?" Well I have several different names, and so I shall tell you. The name of my country is Gileaus, though it has long since been forgotten in the past 700 years. Gypsy Lightwood is my real human name, though the ID in my wallet identifies me as Katie Moore. My hair is naturally long and blonde with corkscrew curls, but now that we are in hiding I have dyed it deep and dark red color and keep it constantly in a braid. Golden freckles are scattered all over my pale nose and cheeks, and my face is rather heart shaped. I stand at about 5'7 feet tall, and I am rather quite skinny and pale. Without my dark brown contacts my eyes are a golden caramel color. And thank goodness I do not have England's thick and bushy eyebrows.

Anyway now that you know what I look like, I need to begin this story. As I was saying I am going to get some supplies. Outside my beige 2013 Kia Forte the seemingly endless plains of North Dakota seem to roll by. Finally I spot Phillip's Pit Stop on the horizon, and I press slightly harder on the gas pedal. In a few minutes I pull into the parking lot, and I exit my vehicle. I lock the doors, and I head inside.

When I walked inside Phillip's Pit Stop, I was hit with the overpowering stench of cigars, frying foods, and woody smoke. I quickly make my way past the stands filled with junk foods and candy to the portion of the pit stop that serves as a restaurant. Behind the counter is a boy with lightly tanned skin, big brown eyes, and slightly messy dirty blonde hair. His name card says his name is Eddie, and he gives me a wide smile as I walk up.

"Hello there miss," he says with a slight country twang. "How can I help you this fine day?"

I give him a small smile and I sit on one of the cracked leather barstools. "I had called in an order for one large thermos of chicken and vegetable soup." I reply. "And per chance do you like to play Plants vs. Zombies? Because my favorite plants are the peashooters."

His eyes widen as he realizes who I am. "Yes I love to play that game," he manages to stutter out. "The peashooters are my favorite too."

I chuckle slightly at his reaction, and he goes off into the kitchen to get the soup and the bullets. And yes, I did just say bullets. "Peashooters" is the code word for bullets, while "Double Peashooter" is the code word for guns. The owner of this pit shop produces his own bullets and guns in secret, and he supports our cause. He provides bullets to us, and we line his wallet with currency. I grab a cold bottle of Sprite and a few bags of chips and pay at the register. By that time Eddie has my order prepared and I pay him accordingly.

As I grab the heavy brown bag, I feel eyes searching over me. Out of the corner of my eye I spot a tall man with slicked back blonde hair wearing jeans, a red and white polo t-shirt, and dark sunglasses. But even with those glasses on, I feel as though the air has been sucked out of me. Because even with those sunglasses on, I instantly recognize Germany and know that he is after me.


	2. Different Circumstances

Hey guys! I have to thank tapion580 for giving me my first review and the 2 people who have followed this story. Below I am going to answer any questions from the reviews and make commentary as long as the answers don't reveal too much of the plot. I do not own Hetalia or the characters in it, but I do own my OCs and the plot.

To tapion580_ The German is indeed after me and he is not on my side. But in this chapter I will reveal why, and you will see that he really is not a bad guy at heart.

To ALFRED JONES_ You will come in soon enough so be patient. And the "BRITAIN DUDE" came first because I am the writer and I chose to make him be first so deal with it. And how do you know if Prussia is still alive? And what exactly am I supposed to suck, bubble butt?

To Kitty_ Thanks a ton! And I will update whenever possible. Cliffhangers do indeed suck but they are needed to get the audience exicted.

My heart seemed to drop into my stomach the moment I saw Germany. Out of all the nations under Russia's control, why did it have to be him? Not only was he badass and super tough, but I actually felt _sorry_ for him. And you all are probably wondering "Why the heck is she feeling sorry for him? After all, he is the one who is after her!" The reason is that Germany was forced to surrender to Russia in order to save Italy. Because when Russia began to attack Italy, Italy of coarse responded by waving his white flag. But Russia found that Italy was overall useless and a liability, so he blackmailed Germany by saying that if he didn't surrender completely Russia would kill Italy. So of course Germany surrendered, and has since been one of Russia's key tools. He has captured and exterminated several countries and has crushed several rebellions. So pretty much he is the guy you really don't want to meet in a dark alley if you are a nation in hiding.

Anyway, I swallowed down the rapidly forming lump in my throat and thanked Eddie. I made sure that I walked regularly and calmly, as though he was just some random and harmless stranger. The brown paper bag was heavy in my hands as I walked back to my car. He was still watching me, and as I filled up my car with gasoline I made sure to seem as though I was normal and just passing through. Shooting me here and now in front of all the people here would tell everybody here who he was since only operatives of Russia are supposed to carry guns and other weapons now. But I was looking at him from the corner of my eye at all times, and I made sure not to turn my back on him.

When I finally got into my car, he got into the only modern and Russian-made car in that parking lot. I drove off opposite the direction I really needed to go, and he followed me. He trailed me until we were about 5 miles from the pit stop, then shot out one of my tires. The car skidded to a stop, and I took out my trusty Glock 19 from the console and readied myself for the inevitable.

Germany was on me in only a moment. One second I was sitting in my car, and the next he had wrenched the car door open and tried to pry me out. Thankfully I was wearing my seatbelt which complicated things, but it hurt like hell. I managed to get off a few shots, but he was moving so much only a small amount managed to hit him, but even those didn't faze him. A powerful blow connected with my face, and a small trickle of blood ran down my face. Next he tried to remove the gun from my hand, but I refused to let go. It was my only chance, and I wasn't going to go down without a fight. My hands clawed at his face, and my legs kicked out at him. But Germany endured the blows, and managed to land quite a few good ones on my face. Finally he wrested me from the car and threw on the ground hard. I scrambled to get on my feet and shoot him when I realized that he had the gun now. Hope was gone, and I knew that my chances of escape were all but none.

His eyes were trained on me. I gazed at him wearily, and said, "It has been a long Germany. Though I wish we were meeting under different circumstances."

"Ja, I am vishing that too," he replied with no mirth in his voice. His eyes flashed back over to his shiny and very fast Russian car. "As you probably already know I have been sent to escort you to Mr. Russia. He is very interested in becoming one vith you and the other survivors." Germany said this grimly, and by the expression on his face I could tell he really didn't want to do this, but he had no choice. Italy's life was on the line, and he had made the decision to save it by working for Russia.

"I know that he sent you Germany. And I have no intention of becoming one with him or betraying my friends." I said matter-of-factly. "If I betray them, who will rid the world of Russia? So either just shot me yourself or hand the gun to me so I can do it."

"No!" Germany exclaimed, and the anger in his voice was unexpected. "Nobody else is going to die, Gypsy. Do you know how many nations I have killed? I will make sure no other nation will die because of me."

"But if you take me to him, the world has basically lost all hope! You know as damn well as I do that Russia is evil and needs to be stopped. And if the Rebellion is ended, who will stop Russia?! So hand me the gun Germany. Because the dead cannot speak, and I have no intention of telling Russia anything!" I was yelling by this point as I was so filled with conviction. If I was required to die in order for the Rebellion to continue, then I was all too willing.

The look on Germany's face was still a seemingly emotionless mask, but in his eyes I could see confusion and shock. I stood very still as he processed what I just told him for several minutes. Then a determined look came over his face and he said, "I vill let you go today, Gypsy."

Needless to say I was shocked by what he just told me. Did he really mean it? Or was it just a ploy to get me to relax so he could bring me in easier? Before I could really think about it I asked, "Why Germany? Aren't you afraid Russia will do something to Italy?"

At that Germany gave a small wry smile. "To answer question number one, I am doing this because you spoke the truth. The Rebellion is the best bet at overthrowing Russia, vhich is in the best interests of the other enslaved nations. And the answer to number two is that Russia is really beginning to like Italy's cooking." Then his mouth became a firm hard line against his face, and he continued talking. "But this is a one-time deal Gypsy. After this, you vill get no mercy for me."

I nodded, and he headed back to his car. He drove back towards the Phillip' Pit Stop, and I breathed out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. As I opened the trunk to retrieve the spare tire, I really wish Germany and I could have seen each other again under different circumstances.


	3. Silence

Hey everybody! Just to let you know, I may not be able to produce a chapter every day like this. Surprisingly, I do have a life, but it tends to either be very boring or very chaotic. I do not own Hetalia or the characters in it, but I do own my OCs and the plot I came up with.

To tapion580_ Thanks! And I do intend for this story to go somewhere, but I am still not quite sure what will happen at the end as I tend to focus on each chapter as it comes.

To Gilbert _ Who said you were dead? You may still be alive…. but then again maybe you are not. And to answer your question, I would kill you if it was part of the plot. No offense or anything. But I think after this chapter you might like me a little more…. or you might not.

To Kitty_ Yes, yes he is.

I put the spare tire on, and put the shot up one in my trunk to dispose of later. Leaving it by the side of the road wasn't an option because if someone found it they might find the bullet hole suspicious and report it to the authorities. After shutting the trunk, I sat down in the drivers' seat and pulled out my hand mirror.

My face looked awful. Red and blue bruises covered the entirety of my face, with a few even beginning to turn purple as I looked. My lip was busted open and it was still slightly bleeding. Thankfully my nose was not broken, though I knew it come close to breaking. I grabbed a baby wipe from the junk in the backseat and wiped at the blood on my face. After the blood was all cleaned up I pulled out some concealer and applied it so that the state of my face wouldn't be as obvious to passing drivers. The last thing I needed was a cop on my tail since Germany had taken my gun. When I thought my appearance was acceptable I got back on the road and headed back to the safe house.

About two hours later I was driving up the long dirt road to the safe house. The safe house was smack dab in the middle of nowhere and was set very far back from the old farm road. It had two floors, the main floor and the basement. The old house was pretty run down, but it had a high chain link fence that could be locked and a huge garden. I drove up to the house, parked the car, grabbed a few items, and walked in.

The inside of the house is like going through a time machine. Dark wood paneling is on all the walls, and while the carpet is clean, it is most likely older than you yourself are. While the furniture is dated, it is all certainly clean and comfortable. There are a few new pieces, mainly the huge plasma TV in the living room. America was lounging on the couch, but once he heard me walk in he was right by me in a flash.

He has changed a great deal ever since Russia has taken over. His hair is no longer a dusty blonde color, but is now kept dyed the same dark red as mine. Dark brown contacts have taken the place of his glasses, and his old bomber jacket was has been replaced with a modern black leather jacket. It had been lost in the fray of one of countless battles before we went into hiding. If one were to look at the bare skin of his arms, they would see the countless thin white scars from the countless bombings he endured. If you were clever enough to notice, we both have the same hair color and eye color. This is so while we are on missions or are traveling, we can tell people we are siblings, and since we look alike they believe us.

"Hey Gypsy!" he practically yelled as he gave me a bear hug. Inside I felt my stomach jump just a little as my nerves seemed to be lighted on fire. But I pushed that aside as soon as my logical side kicked in.

"No need to be so loud America. And it is nice to see you too." I responded. America personality wise hasn't changed too much, unlike some of the others. He pulled away from me, and his eyes widened when he saw the now green bruises on my face.

"Dudette, what the hell happened?" he asked with all seriousness. His eyes narrowed, and I saw the other side of America come out. This side of him was grim and serious, and was the result of seeing the lives of several countries ended before his eyes. But it was also the result of seeing the few remaining nations change for the worse, and being unable to help them despite his best efforts. I hate to see this side of him. It reminded me of what we had all lost, and how close we were living to the edge, and how we could quickly fall off at any time.

"I just had a run in with Germany," I said, and there was shock in his eyes, but also some other emotion I couldn't identify.

"How the hell did you get away from him?" and I knew his question was valid. After all, Germany was essentially the Terminator in this world, and escaping from him was unheard of.

"He let me go," his eyes widened in disbelief, but I continued talking. "You know as well as I do the circumstance under which he joined Russia. He said that the Rebellion was the world best bet to overthrow Russia." America seemed to think for a moment before he nodded in agreement.

"That seems feasible." America said quite matter-of-factly. "Germany himself isn't a bad dude, and he likely hates Russia just as much as we do and desires him to be brought to justice. But you need to tell the others about what happened and in more detail too."

I nodded my head. It was necessary to tell everyone else, and besides I hadn't seen some of them in a while. Right now you are probably wondering, "Who the heck are the other free countries?!" The answer is: Hungary, Prussia, Canada, Japan, and Liechtenstein. Of course America and I are free too, but those are the **other** free countries. America went around gathering up them up while I reheated the thermos of soup. By the time it was nice and hot, everyone was gathered at the dinner table waiting. I set the soup down at the center of the table, sat down, and prepared myself for an onslaught of questions.

"What happened Gypsy?" a blonde haired and blue eyed Japan asked.

A hopeful black haired and green eyed Prussia asked, "Did bruder send any messages for his awesome big bruder?"

Hungary, who is now a platinum blonde and has violet eyes asked, "Are you severely hurt?" in a worried tone.

At this point America clapped his hands together loudly. A hush fell over the table, and everyone looked at America expectantly.

"Let the dudette speak!" he exclaimed in a voice that seemed to shatter the silence. Then he gestured at me in a way that told me I was center stage.

"Ok so while I was…," I began. And I told them the entire story so far of what happened over our dinner. They all seemed shocked by the fact that Germany willingly let me go, but none the less they were relieved. When I finally finished it was late, and everyone was suppressing yawns. But I had one more duty to do before the night was done, and I would need someone to come along.

"Who wants to come with me to torch the car?" I asked, and a few mumbles were heard before Canada stood up.

In his quiet voice he said, "I will come with you."

We then proceeded to empty the car of everything that could possibly be of value. When it was empty, Canada got in the dark grey SUV while I got in my car. Driving on the farm road in the night, I could see all the stars clearly. Then I spotted an area clear of the tall grass, and I pulled off the road and parked the car there. Canada followed in the SUV and once he was parked he came out with the huge red container of gasoline.

"Here you go,"' he said very quietly. He handed me the container, and our fingers touched for just an instant. I noted how warm they were in the cool night, but that moment ended as quickly as it came. Then I shook it off, and we proceeded to douse the entire car in gasoline. The plates we took off to dispose at a different time in some random dumpster along with the tire. Next I pulled the matchbox out of my pocket, and then light one. I stared at that tiny little flame and realized that human lives are very much like it. They are so easily light, and just as easily snuffed out. But then I was snapped back to reality, and I threw it in the gas chamber. I got into the passenger seat of the SUV, and my old car became a bonfire. Canada got into the SUV, and drove into the darkness.

I was glad that Canada was the one who came with me to torch the old car. The silence was not uncomfortable like it would have been if Japan or Prussia were with me instead. And neither was it pained with the unspoken words of grief that would be present if she was paired with Hungary or Lili. Finally the air wasn't filled with unneeded words or corny jokes that would result for Americas' presence. Instead the silence was comfortable, and I saw no reason to change it.

When we got home late that night, we both headed our separate ways. I took a quick shower and changed into some clean clothing before I headed off to bed. Little did I know at that point that things were going to change a great deal over the next few days, or I might not have found the silence more ominous than reassuring.

Hey. Please review with feedback!


	4. A Story Interrupted

**Hello again everybody! Again I may not be able to pop a chapter every day, but I shall try my best. I do not own Hetalia or the characters in it, but I do own my OCs and the plot I came up with. **

**To tapion580_ Thanks! In the next chapter there will most certainly be a few lines like that. **

**To Kitty_ I have nothing to say to that. **

The next morning we all came to the unanimous decision that it was time that we move on. The reason we decided to do so was obvious, as we didn't want to risk another run in with Germany or another of our former allies. We decided to go to our safe house just outside of Springfield Missouri as it had been quite some time since we were last there. It was decided that Canada, Japan, and Lili would take the SUV while Hungary and Prussia would take the 2012 Jeep Wrangler. That left America and I with the Ford E320 12 van. I felt pretty bad for Prussia because things had been awkward between him and Hungary ever since Russia killed Austria. But perhaps this would be good for them. Perhaps he could speak the words that would bring the old, tomboyish Hungary back from the grave.

We then proceeded to pack up what was needed. That included clothes, blankets, non-perishable food items, tools, weapons, guns, cooking utensils, and anything and everything that could possibly be of use. These items were packed into the vehicles, and then we planned each of our routes. Each automobile would take separate routes just so that if one vehicle got "held up" we weren't all going to be in Russia's hands immediately. After exchanging goodbyes and promises to see each other soon, everyone got in their respective car and headed into the horizon.

America was the one who was driving the van. Pop music was playing on the radio, and America was singing along. Often I thought about how the world was so different and yet still the same. People still ate hamburgers, shopped at Wal-Mart, and got sick and died. But now they lived in fear of Russia and his officials, elections were no longer held, and you only spoke freely if you don't care for your own life. Some things have changed, while some aspects remain the same.

"Hey Gypsy?" America asked as he turned down the radio.

"Yes Alfred? What is it?"

"Can you please tell me a story?"

"Sure. Any requests?" I was intrigued.

"Hmmm….," he pondered the question carefully. "How about the story of your life?"

I was stunned. Nobody was ever really interested in my life or past since I am haven't been or probably ever will be a world power. But I was also flattered and so I asked,

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because I don't really know a whole lot about you. You helped me out with my Revolution and everything, but I only know bits and pieces of your history." He said it with genuine interest, and I felt as though I could not refuse his request, and I sighed.

"I will tell you my story Alfred," I said, "but at parts it isn't very happy and it still doesn't have an end. But I will tell you."

"That is ok, Gypsy. Can you please start from the very beginning?" he asked, and I could tell he was reining in his insatiable curiosity.

I mentally scoffed at his question. "Of course I shall tell you my story from the very beginning. If I didn't you wouldn't understand. But I will warn you, I have lived for a long time, and if I am to do justice to this story it shall take a long time in telling."

At this he just nodded as though he expected it. I took a long draught of my coffee, and settled in a more comfortable position. When I blinked I was transported back to the green fields ad pastures of Gileaus, and I began my story.

"It all began in a time when numbers and letters weren't important, at least to the uneducated and poor manual laborers. A boat set sail from England, filled with people who wanted to make a new life for themselves. With them on that boat were tools, seeds, chickens, and all manners of other useful items. They were leaving England due to the fact that they didn't agree with how the Church was being run and they wanted to start anew. Mind you that this was long before the New World was discovered, and that people still thought the Earth was flat and at the center of the universe."

"So they set sail and eventually landed on an island that winter. Now this island was beautiful, green, and had nice fertile soil where plants native to England thrived and flourished. They decided that this island would be their new home. So that summer they sent the ship back to England to tell everyone who shared their wish for a new start that they had discovered a haven. But that ship was sunk to the ocean floor by storms that only cease in the winter. Nobody in England knew what happened to them, and those on the island didn't know why nobody else came to the island. After about a year they decided that England was leaving them to their own devices, so they decided to name the island Gileaus. And thus I was created."

"The next hundred or so years I didn't age very much. I was kind of stuck as a ten year old girl. People gave me a lot of respect, and I often helped out the monarchy when it came to issues with the public. It seemed as though everyone loved me, I couldn't help but love them back. I would often play in the fields, and run as though I could never stop. Those were by far the happiest years of my life. And they might never have ended if England hadn't showed up."

"I remember that day as if it were only yesterday. It was winter, and I had been playing by the seashore when I saw three huge vessels on the water. You must remember we hadn't had any contact with the outside world for about 200 years, and we had no use for huge sailing ships such as those. Frightened of those huge unknown things on the water, I ran to the castle. Queen Mercy had me put in my room and had several guards posted outside. While I only had a faint idea of what I was at the time, the monarchs knew much, much more than I did. Each one passed the secret down to their successor so that it would never be lost."

"While I was locked in my room, a vicious battle was raging. The Englishmen had the advantage, but the people of Gileaus fought bravely. I could feel every blow, and soon I was covered in gashes with my blood flowing freely. Pain consumed me, and for the first time in my life I wished for Death to overtake me. But I had no such luck, and after several screams from outside my door and a few new wounds on me, my door was busted open and in strode a man with blonde hair, green eyes, and big bushy eyebrows. Without raising a bushy eyebrow, he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder and carried me away. I screamed and kicked at him, but it was to no avail. He took me to the ship where my wounds were bandaged, and told me in his accent that he was my big brother and that I was going back with him to England."

"Once we arrived in England, he essentially made me his maid. While I was there I learned that I was a nation, and that England was also a nation. I tried to become friends with him, but every time he brushed me off and told me I had chores to do. Even more aggravating than that was the fact that I wasn't allowed to make any decisions about the status of Gileaus. He made all the decisions without even asking me. I was never allowed to leave his house in London, and I became desperate to escape him. I tried to sneak out several times, but I was always caught by the other staff and then punished. Whenever I tried to ask him he would shoot me down again and again. I came to despise England so much I even tried to stage a rebellion, but he brought down his fist of iron and it was ended as quickly as I started it. My aging during this time was even slower than before so that after about 300 years I only looked to be a girl of 13."

"Finally in the early 17th century I had had enough of being England's maid. So I devised a clever scheme that would allow me to escape. I would have no political power in Gileaus as I didn't have any paperwork, but by that point my own freedom was enough for me. And to my delight, my plan worked. Finally free, I traveled Europe looking for someone who would support my cause of freeing Gileaus. Several nations seemed to sympathize with me and my cause, but nobody was willing to stand up to England as his army had never been defeated before."

"I heard that England was raising a country as his own. That happened to be you America. I felt really bad for you, so when the time came when you wanted to become your own nation, I helped you out. That was the most fun I had had in years, so when you finally won, I didn't know what I wanted to do. So after thinking for a while, I decided I wanted to see the whole world, not just Europe and North America. And that was exactly what I did. But all that time I felt lonely. For though I met many interesting nations they were all too busy with politics or war to really know me. Again I fell into despair, and felt as though I had no purpose. Why should I have existed if I couldn't be a part of my nation and help it and the people who lived in? Despair, loneliness, and the sensation of not being needed clawed at my heart, and though I saw many beautiful and marvelous things and places I did not really enjoy them."

"By that fateful night in London in 1896, I looked as though I were about Blonde hair was such a pale blonde color that it looked white in the moonlight, and it looked as though my skin was bloodless as it was so pale. Instead of caramel brown my eyes were a pale gold, and I could have been mistaken for a corpse if not for the faint movement of my chest. I was standing on Blackfriars Bridge and looking down at the water. Some of the members of Parliament wanted Gileaus to become part of England instead of just a territory, and my life was hanging in the balance. If Gileaus did become one with England, I would have ceased to exist. I was relieved. What was the point of existing if you just wandered around and were unneeded and unwanted everywhere you went? As I stared down at the water, I wondered what would happen if I threw myself into the icy waters. Would they sweep me away to my death, or would death evade me as it had before? I leaned over and was almost about to find out when I felt strong arms wrap around me. And then-"

I was interrupted by the sound of a bullet ricocheting off of the van.

**Hey everybody! The following chapter was supposed to be part of this chapter, but it hasn't worked out that way. Please Review!**


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